


To Be Held and To Hold

by orphan_account



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: M/M, MW Winter Weekend, Murphamy Week Winter Weekend, mwwinterweekend
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-17
Updated: 2019-02-17
Packaged: 2019-10-30 05:28:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17822780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Bellamy was angry. Livid. Pissed off.Murphamy Winter Weekend Day Four





	To Be Held and To Hold

Bellamy was angry. Livid. Pissed off. He slammed the apartment door shut and threw his backpack across the room, ignoring the loud _thump_ as it connected with wall. Three years. Three years he had spent mopping the floor and fixing broken toilets all for someone to slap a pink slip into his hand and walk away without an explanation. Three years of snooty stares and holier-than-thou condescension. Now it was for nothing. He had no job. He had no way of making money. He had nothing.

The bedroom door opened slowly, and Bellamy lifted his head to see a still sleepy Murphy standing in the doorway, staring down at his backpack with a confused look in his eyes. He looked up and gave Bellamy a quick once over. He could only imagine how he looked right now.

He could tell his cheeks were flushed from the heat radiating from him. His chest was heavy and his breathing uneven as his hands turned to fists and his jaw clenched again. Murphy didn’t ask what was wrong, just held out his hand and waited for Bellamy to cross the room and hand him his notice.

Murphy scoffed at the paper in his hands and tore it up, throwing the small remains of the paper onto the floor and leaving them there as he reached forward and wrapped his arms around Bellamy’s shaking shoulder. He gently kissed his neck, burying his face against his collarbone as Bellamy tried to control his breathing, only to let out a heavy sob as he held Murphy tightly.

They couldn’t keep going on Murphy’s salary alone. Bellamy _needed_ to find a job, but – but what could he do? He had dropped out of college when his mother died and sold her business to pay for Octavia to move across the country to live with her father. He had managed with the odd job here and there until he had been hired by Jaha in the janitorial department. There was no way he could be so lucky twice.

Murphy pulled away and took Bellamy by the hand, leading him through to the bedroom and gently guiding him to the bed. The mattress was old and uncomfortable, the frame squeaky and weak, but it was theirs. Just like everything else in their small apartment, it was all brought because it was cheap enough not to disturb the rest of their bills and necessities. But it was _theirs_.

What if they had to start selling their things? What if they had to find a cheaper apartment, or worse, crash with their friends? Murphy didn’t have any family who could help, and even if Bellamy asked Octavia, he was sure her father would refuse. Bellamy wasn’t his son. He didn’t have to help him.

Bellamy flinched when he felt Murphy’s hands grab the bottom of his t-shirt. Broken from his spiralling thoughts, he allowed him to pull the fabric over his head and drop it on the floor. He would clean up later. Murphy then undid his jeans and pressed a small kiss to his cheek before walking out of the bedroom.

Bellamy finished getting undress, standing in their bedroom in a pair of boxer shorts, and waited for Murphy to return. When he did, he was holding a damp cloth and a glass of water.

Bellamy let Murphy push him down onto the bed and took the water when it was offered to him. He took slow, careful sips until the glass was empty and Murphy placed it on the dresser in the corner. Afterwards, he began dabbing Bellamy’s sweaty brow with the cloth.

Bellamy closed his eyes as the cold flannel was gently moved across his forehead, a cool breeze suddenly drawn to the damp skin and cooling his flushed body. He felt a small smile tug at his lips when Murphy kissed the middle of his forehead but frowned when he opened his eyes again and looked up at him.

He let him down. He let him down, and now they were both in trouble.

“Stop thinking,” Murphy said, his voice quiet and sure. “Just for a little while. Stop thinking. Lay down with me, get some sleep, and then we’ll figure everything out when we wake up.”

Bellamy opened his mouth to speak, but was quickly shushed, Murphy finger pressing against his lips.

“Just rest.” Murphy said before walking to his side of the bed and pulling the ratty old blanket they had folded at the end of the quilt open. He sat down on the mattress and patted the opposite side, Bellamy’s side, before sorting out the blanket so that it rested just above his waist.

Bellamy took a slow, deep breath before laying down next to him, letting his body be covered with the blanket as well and tried to calm down. But he couldn’t. His mind wouldn’t stop working, a constant swirl of problems moving through his thoughts, but no solutions seemed to follow. Bellamy squeezed his eyes shut, willing his mind to stop, but nothing worked.

Nothing worked until he felt a sleeve covered arm wrap around his waist. Murphy joined their hands together, fingers entwined, and rested his forehead against the back of Bellamy’s neck. He hummed softly, a random but soothing tune that soon slowly lulled Bellamy to sleep, his eyes resisting for a second or two before shutting softly and allowing him to rest.

He slept in Murphy’s arms, held tightly by the man he loved and surrounded by a familiar warmth that made him think of acceptance and safety. When he woke up, his problems would still be there, seemingly impossible to solve, but those were problems for later. Now, now was a time to be held and to hold, and to remember that no matter what, he still had Murphy.  

**Author's Note:**

> And with that, Winter Weekend is over for me. But I loved every moment of it.
> 
> Big, huge thank you to murphamy for creating this event. It was so much fun. I can't wait for the next celebration of Murphamy.
> 
> Please leave me a comment telling me what you think of this story. I'd love to hear from you.
> 
> Have a lovely day/night!


End file.
